


Lingering Shadows

by Firegirl156



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Ghosts, Horror, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Romance, Skeletons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29890896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firegirl156/pseuds/Firegirl156
Summary: Elaine is connected to this place, to these people. But she doesn't know how, and the shadows hanging over the mansion feel like claws.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character





	Lingering Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me in a dream and I manic wrote it in 3 hours. At the moment it's stand alone but I may make a Novella of it.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy.

Mark and Elaine gasped for breath as the door slammed behind them. The ghost woman's shrieks and wails followed them as she pounded on the door. “My daughter!” she wailed, “Please give me my daughter!”

Mark, fearing that somehow the door would not hold like the others, grabbed Elaine's arm and hurriedly tugged them further into the room. 

“Mark! Please, I have to catch my breath!” Elaine begged him, tearing her arm away to sit on a dusty seat nearby, laying her forehead in her hand. 

Mark frowned but nodded, looking around to survey this room. It was dark, but moonlight streamed through the window behind Elaine, giving it some shape. 

It appeared to be a hall of some sort, and the only door was a wrought iron gate a few feet down and behind him. The twisted metal gave him no good feelings about the contents of the room. But maybe a gate meant they were close to getting out. 

“This is, Mark this is too much. I can't handle another wailing ghost, or shambling undead. They're so angry, so sad. This mansion has something wrong with it. Something hurt these people and I can't stand bearing any more of their sorrow,” Elaine finally spoke, a sob of her own breaking through her words. 

Mark looked back to her and frowned, sitting beside her and wrapping an arm around her. “Come on now Ela, no tears, we're gonna be okay. That's a gate over there, and gates always lead outside. We've got to be close, so look at the bright side. You got that cool flaming dagger, and I got this magic rope. And together we can get out of here.”

They had been friends for long enough that Mark knew his words had helped a little, but not all the way at the way she sat up a bit and started to rub her tears away. So he stood and offered her a hand. “Now let's get out of here Ela.” 

She gave him a smile and took his hand, letting him haul her up. She quickly dusted herself off and then gave him a determined look. “Alright Mark, let's get out of here.” 

The two shared a nod, and then looked towards the gate. Like so many times before, they approached it and they creaked open of their own accord. With determined steps they crossed through it. 

The gate closed behind them, but all Elaine could process was the soft of grass beneath her feet, the enveloping darkness, and smell of a mixture of plants and rot. 

She caught sight of a single, flickering candle a bit ahead and she stepped to it, picking up a stick beside it and lighting it, and used its light to find and light another candle, and another, following a wall until all 10 candles were lit and the room lit up, more than the candles should have lit. 

Mark's hand latched on her shoulder suddenly, and she jumped, going to turn to yell at him when she caught sight of what he was staring at. 

In a chair, back by the door, sat a skeletal-like man. Closer to corpse than bone, but still very much dead, he stood, his eyes slowly opening and he stretched. Then his eyes landed on them, and they widened, just a tad. 

“Lady Elaine… Sir Markus, what a pleasure for you to arrive,” the man creaked out through old and dry chords. 

Mark tensed. “You have caught us at a disadvantage, sir. You know our names, but we don't know yours,” he declared, trying to search for a way out. 

The figure's brow creased in a look of confusion. “Markus, you don't remember me? Has it been that long? It's Victor, Victor Ashton.” The man insisted, sounding more and more upset as he spoke. 

Elaine, fearing another outburst, stepped forward. “Of course Victor, forgive him, it is simply so dark we could not make you out,” she excused, hoping it would work. 

Victor smiled at her, and stood, walking towards her. As he did, the more his outfit, a rather ornate and old formal attire, mended. And the more his skin filled out. “My apologies Elaine, I thought the candlelight would be more thematic.” 

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, trying to remember to breathe, and not bolt. “It's quite alright Victor, I do think the lighting is nice.”

Mark stepped a bit up as well, worried for Elaine's safety. “Victor, Elaine forgot something off the grounds and we were trying to go retrieve it. Could you help show us the way out?” It was a long shot for sure, but this figure seemed more sane than the rest. 

Victor turned to him with a pleasant look. “Why of course, this is the garden after all, come along,” he urged them to turn around and started to lead them forward. 

After a few steps they picked it out, a gate emerging out of the darkness, moonlight streaming just behind it. 

“You know, Elaine, I was so worried you wouldn't make it to the party tonight,” Victor spoke up. 

There it was again, the party it seemed every figure they ran into, mentioned. “Of course I would, Victor, I wouldn't miss it for the world,” Elaine insisted, playing along to not upset him, even flashing him a smile, though in the far diminished light she wasn't even sure he could see.

There was, almost something familiar here, though she couldn't put her finger on it. Like a memory just out of her reach. 

“Of course, you wrote as such, I just… with your father-" Victor started, but then cut off suddenly, with an almost choking sound. 

Elaine turned to ask him what was wrong, when a skeletal hand crashed between them, and a glowing red eye trained on her. Elaine fell back, scrambling away. “Mark run!” 

The skeletal monster followed her, chasing as she scampered backwards, trying to get around him and get back to Mark and the door. But she must have gotten turned around as her back hit wood, a chair? Her heart nearly beat out of her chest as the monster curled over her, ready to strike. 

In an act of desperation she drew her dagger and threw it towards where the wall was, the dagger hit the mark, alighting a few of the candles and engulfing the garden in shallow light once more. 

Victor, now himself once more as the light hit him, fell back, eyes wide in shock and horror. 

Elaine caught sight of Mark running over and using the dagger to light the rest of the candles once more, but she trained back to the man in front of her. 

“Victor?” she asked softly. 

The man covered his face and flinched away from her. “Elaine, oh Elaine what have I become. Leave, leave me my love,” he sobbed, “Before the darkness comes once more and my spirit turns against you.” 

There it was again. The twins who gossiped with her until she didn't recognize them. The guard who refused to leave her side until she tried to leave his. And the mother who was overjoyed at her, until she rejected her. She was, connected, to this house, to these people, somehow, though she could not remember. 

Mark was at her side, tugging on her. “Elaine, come on we have to go. The candles only stay lit for a few minutes, we'll have to make a run for it.”

Elaine looked at Mark, and then looked at Victor. “Mark…”

“No!” Mark snapped at her, knowing what she was going to say, knowing what she was thinking. “I'm not leaving you here.” 

Victor looked up at this and nodded. “You must go. It will only destroy you if you stay.” 

“No.” Elaine told them both, voice firm. “Mark, the ghost and spirits. The feeling that drew me in here in the first place. I'm connected to this place. And I have to know why.”

Fear and frustration built in Mark, because he knew that tone, that voice. She had made a decision, one that he was never going to be able to push her from. 

“Light the candles, and run.” She told him, and then she looked at Victor, offering him her hand. “May I have this dance, Lord Victor?” 

The corpse looked at her with a vulnerable look, but took her hand and pulled the both of them up. 

Mark felt sick, but he stood and took the dagger, he ran the flame over each wick once more. Then he left it on the wall. She… she would need it. And then he turned, and he ran. 

Elaine looked at Victor with an apologetic look. “I'm afraid I don't know how to dance well,” she admitted. 

Victor smiled softly and helped her take position “You were never any good at it. But don't worry, I had metal plates put into my shoes for tonight,” he assured her and he started them in a music less waltz. 

The first flame flickered out. 

“I set everything up so carefully for tonight. The décor, the garden. Everything so carefully planned,” he told her softly. 

“Well, I do wish I saw it in its prime, it must have been beautiful Victor,” Elaine assured him, trying to not step on his feet, metal shoes or no. 

The second went. 

Victor’s form diminished a little, his clothes wearing a bit as if time has suddenly snatched them. His eyes sunk in and his skin grew sallow. 

“I… I don't know what happened. To my home, to any of us. It… wasn't supposed to be like this, it was supposed to be a joyous night.” Victor's tone grew mournful. 

“I wish I could tell you, but no one in town wishes to speak of it, and no one was to come here. At least we are together in the mystery.”

The third went with the wind, and the fourth wobbled dangerously before it was taken too.

“Your mother was so excited. And Mia and Tia, my sisters, could hardly contain themselves. There was so much excitement around. Even as the hour grew late and… and Markus went to find you.” 

Elaine's head spun with his words, more pricks at her memory like moths diving at a covered light, so close but never close enough. 

“Mark? He went looking?” 

Victor nodded. “Our oldest friend. I couldn't leave my own party, and Dimitri was to watch your mother, so he stepped out for me, to find you.”

The fifth and suddenly Victor pulled away, a harsh cough taking him, though only dry air and gasps escaped his aged lungs. 

“Victor, are you okay? What's wrong?” Elaine asked, fear filling her in a way she couldn't describe. 

“I- I'm not sure,” he said in between gasps. He looked at her and her breath caught in her throat. Skin was stretched thin now, his eyes hardly there. Once noble clothes torn and worn, hanging off him in rags. 

His cough slowed and he straightened. “I'm… I'm afraid I may not be able to finish the waltz my dear.”

She gave him a gentle smile, though fear clawed at her, and pulled him into her arms. “Then we can just sway to the rest, a dance doesn't have to be elaborate,” she assured him and started to sway them to the beat they had been going off of before. 

The sixth went and Victor’s arms wrapped around her, just an occasional cough now. “You might still be able to run, to catch up to Markus, to escape.”

“No, I said I would stay, and I will stay, to whatever end there is,” she insisted, laying her head against his shoulder. 

“You always were stubborn, it's what I loved about you. Your insistence to be yourself and do things your own way.” 

The seventh and he rested his head against hers. She could feel the hard jawbone of a stripped skull against her hair, the only padding on the shoulder was strips of cloth trapped between it and her cheek. 

“Tell me how you decorated the garden,” she urged him, to keep him talking. 

He glanced empty sockets around. “Small candle lanterns wrapped in white paper lit the garden with bright and soft light. Roses, Lavender and Gardenia's were cultivated around the bushes, your favorites, to accentuate your Jasmine trellises. The scent was a little overpowering in the afternoons, but it was mellow by the time the sun set. I'd had a large corner of old shrubbery cleaned out for you to grow what you liked. You'd spoken of an herb garden.”

“It sounds gorgeous Victor, I'd love to have seen it,” she smiled at him, the image forming effortlessly in her mind. 

The eighth and now he was nothing more than bone in her arms, and he pulled back a bit to look at her. 

“I'm afraid,” he said, his voice a whisper, “I'm afraid of hurting you. I don't want to hurt you Elaine.” 

She pushed away the clawing hands of fear, treading them down as she took his skeletal face in her hands. “I trust you Victor. You won't hurt me.” 

“But I already tried to. I could have…” 

She cut him off by firmly taking his hands in hers. “But you didn't.” 

Even with no way to articulate emotion, she could sense the fear, the sadness, the relief he was feeling, she pulled him to her and tucked his head under her chin, rubbing her hand against his spine in comfort. 

The ninth went, barely a pinprick in the darkness. And she could barely see him before her, but she held onto him, and she refused to consider when the last one left. She didn't lie, she didn't believe he would hurt her, but whatever had hold of this place? 

He lifted his head and she let him. “I love you Elaine, I always have,” he told her with what little ability he had left. 

She gave him a soft smile and leaned forward, pressing her lips against where his teeth met. 

The last candle went and the darkness fell. 

~~~

Mark made it through the gates, tears streaming down his face, moments before they slammed shut behind him. 

The noise jarred him, and panic gripped him, spinning about and tugging at them in desperation. “Elaine!” he screamed, “Elaine!”

A flashlight landed on him and he turned, shielding his eyes. “What are you doing there boy?” 

It was the groundskeeper, old man Murray, a stern look on his face. 

“You have to help me sir. Elaine, my friend is still inside. That skeleton, Victor will kill her please!”

The flashlight lowered, and the old man's shocked face was easier to see. “Who did you say?” 

“Elaine!” Mark yelled but the man shook his head. 

“Victor?” 

Murray's face grew pale. “Come on to my house now son.” 

“But Elaine!”

“She's gone boy. All you'll find in there now is cobwebs and dust. No ghost, nor skeleton in sight.” Murray's voice was soft, sad, at the words. 

Mark looked between him, and the bars, desperately, but knew deep down, the old man was right. He pried his fingers from them, and followed the man back down the hill a bit to his small cabin. 

He took a seat at the table when prompted as Murray made up a kettle. “What time did you both head inside?” 

Mark considered it a moment, it felt like a lifetime ago. “A few minutes before midnight I think.” 

Murray nodded a bit at that. “You only lost two hours, better than your life I imagine.” 

Mark paled and sunk in his chair, lost in thought until a mug was set before him. 

“Drink that slowly. It's unpleasant, but it'll help.”

Mark raised an eyebrow and sipped at it, nearly recoiling from the pungent and bitter taste. “What is that?!”

“Antidote for the poison now swimmin’ in your lungs. You'll drink it all if you know what's good for you.” 

Mark grimaced, but took another sip, bearing through it. 

“Now what possessed you two to go in there?” Murray demanded. 

“Elaine had been having these dreams about the house lately. Something wouldn't leave her alone about it so she decided to go to it. I… I couldn't let her go alone so I went with her.” 

Murray grimaced. “They don't tell you kids why this place is off limits because we're afraid it'll cause teens to try their luck.” He paused for a moment, and looked out the window facing the house. 

“My great grandfather was the son of the manor's groundskeeper. The lord of the house, Victor Ashton was a kind man who didn't mind him tagging along to his father's work. 

Victor was a good man, from what stories say, kind to his staff and the people under his charge. And, he was desperately in love with Lady Elaine Brisby. And she with him.

Her mother, Lady Liliana, was overjoyed at the Lord's attention to her daughter, for both the prestige and the fact that the marriage would be from love. Her father, Lord Havard, on the other hand, was displeased. He was making plans to marry her off to a Viscount who was willing to pay his gambling debts.

The night it all… happened. Victor had prepared a large party to propose to Elaine. So many attended, including my grandfathers.”

Mark had listened, and sipped, with rapt attention. Dread pooled in his stomach the further he talked, however. “What happened?”

“Liliana had gone ahead of her daughter, to make sure everything was prepared. But, Elaine never arrived. Sir Markus Raiter, Elaine and Victor’s friend, offered to see what was taking her and departed fifteen minutes to midnight. My great grandfather, bored of waiting, went outside to play with his toys.

Havard, had stolen his daughter away, the moment Liliana had left, and to keep anyone from finding out what he'd done, he'd set a gas trap in the Lord's Manor. The toxic fumes seeped through the mansion in minutes once it broke its container, and killed everyone inside. My grandfather, curious once the music faded, went to open the door to see what happened. Thankfully, at the hint of the foul odor, and the sight of the bodies, he turned and ran to town for help. He and Sir Markus were the only survivors of the party.” 

Mark took the last sip, face pale and eyes wide. “Good God.” 

Murray nodded and poured him another glass of tea, this one much better in taste. “The gas was so potent they couldn't clear it, they had to let it dissipate on its own and it was so seeped into the walls and furniture it was impossible to even retrieve the bodies. They considered burning the house down, but they feared the gas seeping through even that and killing the town, so the house was left alone. Blocked off and left abandoned.” 

It hit Mark then. “The tea?”

“A rough antidote. Hopefully nips it in the bud fast enough to keep you alive. Should be weak enough you should be fine.”

He stared at the house. “And… Elaine?” 

“Markus made it his mission to find her. But it was a short mission. She was found a day's ride from town, drowned in the river. It appeared there was a struggle and she fell. Sir Markus never recovered the loss and followed soon after.” 

Mark tried to handle all of this as best as his brain could keep up. But the implications… 

“My great grandfather told me this story, weak from his bed when I was 5. The next day he went missing, we never figured out how he got out of bed, but… I have a feeling he's in there.” 

Murray seemed done with the story, and happy enough to sit in silence once more. 

Mark sat there, in the quiet, feeling more cold and alone than he ever had before. Elaine was gone. And his story weighed over his shoulders. “What… what do I do now?” 

Murray gave him a sad smile. “What you want son.”

Mark slowly nodded, finished his tea and gave the man a soft word of thanks, before stepping out of the cabin, into the night. 

~~~

Mark leaned heavily against his cane as he made the slow ascent up the hill. He'd only followed this path once before, 30 years before, and then he hadn't been alone. 

The tea old man Murray had given him had neutralized the poison's immediate harm, but it had made itself a home in his lungs all the same, and let cancer form. There was no hope for him at this point, and he wasn't predicted to make it a year. 

They'd offered him a hospital bed, but he insisted on coming home, where he could go in peace. They believed he meant in his bed, or maybe his fireside chair, he doubted they'd have let him if they knew his real plan.

He hoped his sister wasn't too hurt that he'd only left her a note. 

The house had degraded a little more, since the last time, but was still dark and still, just like that night. 

Elaine's disappearance had shaken the town, especially with no trace of her. He'd played the fool well, after all, no one would have believed the truth. But she had left a hole in his life he'd never filled. 

His hand closed over the doorknob, and he took a final breath. He understood now, why Murray’s grandfather had returned. There was something right about it. He opened the door, and stepped inside. His watch reading five minutes until midnight.

The entryway was lit up and bright, music lingered and flowed between rooms and chatter was heard under it everywhere. 

Air, clear and crisp, hit Markus's lungs in a way it hadn't in ages. 

“Oh Markus there you are!” Mia's voice cut through the din, and he looked up to see her and Tia hurry towards him. 

“We were worried you'd be looking all night,” Tia giggled as she clung to her sister's arm. 

“Oh really, have I missed something then?” he asked of them, noting that Tia would need to be cut off, she was far too tipsy. 

“Elaine returned, she's in the garden with Victor, waiting for you.” They said in unison, pushing him through one of the doorways, through towards the garden. 

Liliana, he noted, was lingering at the garden gate, and perked up as she saw him. “Oh thank goodness you've arrived. Neither wanted to continue the party until you returned and my nerves are shot.” 

“Worry not my lady, I've returned and our lives can resume,” he assured her, giving her a smile and stepping out into the garden. 

Soft light illuminated the garden with just enough light to see and be romantic at the same time. The soft scent of mingling flowers graced his nose and he rounded the corner to see Victor and Elaine talking in the center, both of their faces lighting up as they saw him. 

“Markus, there you are, I thought you'd gotten lost!” Victor called to him with a grin. 

“Why Victor, last I checked I wasn't you,” he shot back with a grin of his own. 

Elaine rolled her eyes at them and turned to hug him. “Thank you for going to look for me Markus.”

“Of course Elaine, couldn't have you miss tonight, you're kind of the guest of honor,” he said as he returned her hug. 

“Dimitri has looked rather sullen since I arrived without you,” she told him softly. 

He stiffened and glanced over to the man in question. “He's your family guard, have you asked him why?” he hissed back. 

She rolled her eyes and nudged him. “You know why,” she grinned and stepped back to Victor's side. 

“Now, my friends, family and guests, I would like to make an announcement of sorts,” Victor declared as the guests filed in and Markus awkwardly went to stand at Dimitri's side. The latter seemed to ease as he took that spot. 

Victor waited until all were inside, before he turned to Elaine and took her hands. “My dearest Elaine, light of my heart, I have put all of this together today, so that I might ask you. Would you marry me?” 

Elaine, though it was obviously to all she knew what Victor was to ask, still smiled with such joy that she lit up the party and threw her arms around him. “Yes, oh yes Victor, of course nothing would make me happier!”

Cheers burst forth and the band struck up again with a celebratory waltz. 

Victor offered Elaine his hand and she blushed, taking it. “You know I'm an awful dancer.” 

Victor smiled and swept her up into it. “Worry not my dear, I got new shoes with metal plates, you can tread on my feet without a worry.”

“Victor!” she giggled and eased more into the dance. 

Markus stood at the edge, joy filling him at the sight of his friend's happiness. 

“I was… worried. You were taking so long.” Dimitri spoke up, voice as soft as ever. 

Markus looked at him, giving him an apologetic smile. “I'm sorry for making you wait. I didn't want to be lax in my search.” 

Dimitri looked at him, the deep brown of his eyes as easy to get lost in as ever. “I do appreciate it. Elaine is my charge and it makes me happy you also care for her safety.” 

Markus smiled and stepped back a bit, offering Dimitri his hand. “Your charge is safely tucked in her fiancée’s arms. May I have this dance?” 

Dimitri’s eyes widened, but he nodded and took his hand. “I thought you'd never ask,” he chuckled softly, allowing himself to be pulled onto the dance floor. 

From across the garden, tucked into a corner, sat a little boy, next to his father, watching the festivities. The ball was boring for a boy his age, but he stayed at his father's side as he knew he should. He looked up at the moon above him and he felt like, suddenly, everything was right.

Far off, a bell tolled, marking the midnight hour.


End file.
